


This Moment’s Silence

by saymynamedarling



Series: hands brushed, briefly [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Character Study, Compulsion, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Sexual thoughts about co-workers without consent, Unrequited Love, its very minor - Freeform, minor self injury, s4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22363606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saymynamedarling/pseuds/saymynamedarling
Summary: Jon's been stalking the Institute, looking for Martin. He finds him, but things escalate pretty quickly.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Pre-Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: hands brushed, briefly [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619314
Comments: 7
Kudos: 99





	This Moment’s Silence

**Author's Note:**

> I've had one specific scene stuck in my mind for weeks and I could not sleep before I wrote it out.

It takes weeks of searching and _seeing_ for Jon to corner Martin.

When he does, it’s like talking to a brick wall who is both pleased to see and ready to flee any second. They bat accusations (Martin) and pleas (Jon) back and forth before it all gets too repetitive and he snaps. 

_“What do you want, Martin?”_

Martin freezes. His expression is almost comically shocked and then switches slowly to anger. Jon can suss out by the twitch of his jaw that Martin is clenching his teeth, fighting valiantly against the compulsion but between the two of them, Jon has always been the stronger monster. He only has to wait a few more seconds before the words are dragged out from behind Martin’s teeth. 

“I want you kissed,” Martin says. 

A beat. Realisation. And then he claps his hands over his mouth immediately. 

“Wh-what?” Jon stammers, stunned. 

Martin says something behind his makeshift gag. The words are muffled, and suddenly Jon is starving with the need to Know. 

Distantly, he is aware that he is moving towards Martin who his backing away just as fast. There is a buzzing in his head and it’s painting everything else except Martin’s wide-eyed stare and muffled noises in faded watercolors. 

Jon backs him against the wall and is stopped by Martin’s free hand on his chest. His eyes are wide and brown and pleading and Jon is almost sorry. Almost. 

But that doesn’t stop him from prying the hand away from over Martin’s mouth. Gently, because Martin isn’t putting up much of a fight, despite his earlier protests. 

For a moment, there are only locked eyes and silence. The air between them thrums with something that makes Jon’s mouth dry. The places where his hand is touching Martin’s skin feels hot and electric. 

And then Martin speaks.

“I want you kissed. The moment I saw you, I thought, well. That’s a man that needs kissing.  
Not necessarily by me, but - well. You were so prom and proper, I just wanted to see you rumpled up.” 

Martin closes his eyes, clearly mortified but doesn’t stop. 

“I shut the thought down just as soon, of course, common decency and respect and - It’s just one of those thoughts you have when you meet someone, or see a particularly attractive stranger and for a second you’re...aware of them. A spark of sorts, I guess, but it was pretty obvious by the way you acted that it was one-sided. So, I didn’t really...pursue that line of thought. Even if you did reciprocate my, uh, _spark?_ I wouldn’t have. You're a coworker, and I’m not a creep. 

But then you got promoted to Head Archivist, and we were transferred to be your assistants and the more I saw you, the more I _wanted_.” 

He chuckles, bitterly.

“I wanted to help you. I wanted to tell you to stop staying back so late. I wanted to bring you tea. I caved into these tiny impulses and tried to justify it to myself. This is just what decent human being would do, Martin. But every time I wanted more.”

Jon is so transfixed by Martin, flaying himself open that he doesn’t even think to react. 

Martin pushes off the wall and switches their positions, so swiftly he's just a blur movement. Now it’s Jon who is backed into a corner, caged by thick arms on either side of his head, unable to escape. 

Except - except he doesn’t really want to escape.

“Things started getting worse then. Prentiss, Elias, the _Unknowing_. I wanted to be useful. I wanted to help. I wanted everyone to just not die but you _did_ and then I -“

His heart is jackrabbiting against his remains ribs, staring up at Martin who is - there is no better word for it - looming over him. Everything about this situation should be making him want to flee but Jon doesn’t want to. He looks up at Martin and sees tear tracks on his cheeks and - Ah. Blood welling up from his lip, bitten to keep the words in. A small pool gathers in the corner of Martin’s lips and starts to slide down his chin. 

Jon comes back to himself.

“Stop.” He says. “Stop, it’s alright, you don’t have to, Martin, stop.” His voice is hoarse, scratchy like he had forgotten to drink water all day. 

Martin shakes his head and makes a noise of distress in his throat. When he starts speaking again, his voice is almost a whisper but somehow they are close enough now that Jon can hear him clearly. 

“It was a stupid crush at first, but then I started to want other things. You like competence so I tried my best to become competent but when you died, I wanted -“ and Martin turns his head and bites the meat of his thumb. 

He can’t stop, Jon realises. He needs to finish the statement. 

“Martin,” he doesn't know what he wants to say, only that he wants Martin to _stop_. “It’s okay. You can - finish. I won’t be mad, so, please. Don’t hurt yourself.” 

There is no reply except for the minute shake off Martin’s head. 

So for the second time that day, Jon tugs Martin’s hands away. He covers the bloody lip print that’s left with his scarred hand.

“After Jane Prentiss’ attack, you started looking so tired. You snapped at people more, you stalked us. You became rumpled but not soft. I wanted to soothe your pain a little.” Jon takes Martin’s face in his hands and pulls him down to rest against him. His breath warms Jon’s shoulders as he continues to speak.

“I wanted you to notice me,” - and this, Martin says with enough despair that it hurts Jon’s chest - “rely on me, trust me, care about me. I wanted you, Jon, to let me care for you.”

“Martin,” Jon replies helplessly, fingers sifting through his hair. 

Martin releases a big shuddering breath that washes over Jon’s neck, down his shirt, raising goosebumps in its wake. Something immense is happening here, important. Jon holds his breath and feels like the whole world has stopped breathing with him. 

The warm weight on his shoulder shifts. Martin raises his head, and they both take a moment to just look at each other. There is a certain finality.

“I love. you, Jon. I love you. And I want you to love me back.” 

The world has shrunk to the moment between them. Jon is wide-eyed, stunned. Martin looks surprisingly relaxed, although tired. 

And pissed.

Jon starts to panic.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to -“ he starts to stammer but is cut off. 

“Don’t. _Do_ that.” Martin is very, very close to him. His breath is, Jon notices for the first time, tinged with the sour smell of coffee. 

“I won’t,” he promises, although he can’t really promise things like that anymore.  
Martin makes a rude sound of dissatisfaction. 

“I’ll take what I can get,” Martin says. He sounds resigned, defeated and - 

The offer is out of Jon’s mouth before he can think. “You don’t have to.” 

Martin’s eyes widen. And jerks back a few steps almost violently when he did notices how close they are standing. 

“You can’t do this,” he sounds angry, “you weren’t here. You can’t come back and just -“

There is a pause. Martin wipes the blood from his chin. Collect himself. 

“Don’t come looking for me again,” He says. “If you trust me at all, don’t do this again.”

“Martin,” he replies. Something inside him is wilting, defeated. He feels very small. 

“Just. Don’t, Jon” And then Jon’s watching him walk away, and he can’t bring himself to follow even as Martin disappears around a corner.

**Author's Note:**

> I only write one thing, and it's apparently angst. Hope ya'll liked it! Comments are always welcome. :)


End file.
